That's Not My Morning Jacket

Its not that I don't have anything funny to write I just really seem to concentrate on problems, issues, life, etc. when no one is around.

My sense of humor tends to be like a fancy jacket. You only want to wear it if the right people are going to see it.

Jack Black. That guy seems like he never takes off his jacket. Robin Williams seems to have a strait jacket. Since I'm a funny guy I notice other peoples sense of humor, joke telling ability, the ability to captivate an audience, tell stories, etc. I see it and i recognize it. But what if your jacket is like "being a ladies man" or "being tough." People that gravitate towards these schools of thought and myself rarely have anything in common. I'm actually pretty positive these were the kids that beat me up in grade school.

So what does it all mean?

Nothing.

I've solved another one.

Fast Walker

Fast Walker, walking really fast
He's gonna get there and he won't be last.
Fast Walker, he's got what you need
Would you like another glass of ice tea?
Fast Walker, he'll show you that he cares
Does it faster than a grizzly bear.

(break)

Fast Walker, walking even faster
He's gonna show you that he is the master.
Faster Walker, no such thing exists
He's still the quickest on any list.
Fast Walker, no one else compares
Stands alone with his arms held in the air.

"We will see who believes in Me now."

One of these was a serious religious experience for me. Please play them both in their entirety.

pbbbbt

Screw this blog. I retire it. If I am going to do funny I need a different name.

Whoa...

Hey Mr. Blog, I totally forgot about you! Never fear. I'll bring you back! Life will be glorious, so much to talk about, so many bad stand up comedy bits I can't wait to share with the world.

Come on blog, let's put the fun back in Elefunt.

untired, nonsleepy, lying wide awake dreaming of sleep

i filled my body with too much energy today --two energy drinks, a five hour energy, and a venti white chocolate mocha -- so as to be able to spend ample time on my paper due at 6 p.m. tomorrow. i guess it's amazing how a deadline and the inability to carry out said task for deadline can lure over your head like a small black storm cloud. instead of trying to write a descent paper the goal becomes to get that stupid cloud to go away. then instead of accomplishing the original goal you settle for something far less meaningful. yet because the rain goes away a great sense of accomplishment comes forth and stress becomes excitement. unfortunately i am looking at inclement weather conditions for another month or so until finals are done. and even then, the forecast is looking grim. i refuse to spend any effort on complex punctuation after burrying my head in a giant paper conforming to APA style this feels like the most rebellious thing i have done since...nevermind better left unsaid.

hey for all the fans out there i'd just like to say...never fret over this lapse in punctuation. I'll be badck to normal in no time at all. fear not my faithful followers...alliteration distracted me from anything i was going to say. what do they call these three periods...not hockey...i'm talking about these... ... ... ... whatever their official name is they should take the place of any commas or colons or semi colons...when in doubt use three periods. you have a run on...use three periods.

anyways...i'd like to make a recomendation wait for some reason my browser is not auto spell checking...interesting...so my recomendation...yes...enjoy the comedy of bill hicks. do not enjoy the comedy of dane cook.

later children

Between a Story and You

I found a receipt inside an old textbook. Nearly three years ago, I purchased, at around 9 am, a CFA Chicken Biscuit and a Coke. The first thought that came to my mind was, "Oh hey I wonder if I was happier then? Wonder if me and J$@t@(!)r were together?" I guess its more or less one question. Then I began to have the common "I should call her right now" thoughts, immediately followed by intense emotional vulnerability -- all quickly erased by my learned auto-anti-depressing thought remover. Upon the blank moment of silence in my thoughts, a new question came echoing in, "What else was I doing around that time?"

I've often noticed that upon reminiscing about my five years of undergrad at Memphis, I almost always come up with the same handful of memories. Outside of that, I've got nothing. No knowledge of much of my classes and teachers. I'm not certain if they escape me, or if they were just never there to begin with.

But I know things weren't "better" then. And I was never with a girl named J$@t@(!)r once in my life. There was an apparition, a moment in which I shifted my focus away from nothing -- and transfixed it on something a little less meaningful. For that I am extremely sorry to myself. I owe it to myself to make some changes. How to catch up for lost time? How much progress was lost?

As I sit now, living in Smyrna, Tennessee...alone...

...using other people's creativity to express myself...

...this is not the way it was ever supposed to be...

...what was there supposed to be...

All the cliches are true about happiness. It sits faintly in the distance, shimmering with all its might, barely visible, like a star over a downtown.

I think my star may have burned its last gas.

But maybe that's okay. Cause then I'll get a giant burst of exhilarating rays of happiness.

...I don't believe that...

...I believe that I am happy. My tears are proof of it...




...I don't believe that either...